Of Housewives and Falling in Love
by PennyStarling17
Summary: A roleplay between Outakurebecca and myself. In which, our boys figure out that they are in love with each other and then find each other again in the 21st century. Unbeta'd.
1. Chapter 1

The '30s (Pre Captain America)

Steve smiled at his creation. The stew was pale and there wasn't nearly as much as he would have liked, but it was Bucky's favorite. The sun light glinted off the surface of their dinner from the one intact window of the apartment, gleaming with the last of the sunset. He hoped fervently that Bucky would get home without any trouble.

Further up the block, Bucky sighed and rolled his shoulders as he walked home. It had been a very long day and he couldn't wait to get to bed and sleep. He dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the apartment's main door, shoulders slumped, back and neck tingeing with pain. He finished climbing up the stairs to his and Steve's shared apartment, unlocked the door, stepped inside, and called out, a hint of worry in his voice, "Steve?"

At the sound of his friend's voice, Steve poked his head around the dividing wall into the small sitting room. "Hey Bucky!" He called. "Hard day at work?"

Relief bloomed in Bucky's chest when he saw Steve. He had been worrying about him a lot more after the string of break-ins had begun on their street.

"Yeah," he sighed as he hung up his coat. "Something like that."

Steve gave him a concerned look. He had been working himself too hard lately. Everyone was these days, the American dream wasn't cheap.  
"I made your favorite!" Steve announced, wanting Bucky to feel better.

Bucky offered a tired grin.  
"Yeah?"

"That's right!" He gave Bucky a mock salute. "Could you get the spoons?" Steve emerged from the kitchen, balancing literally everything but the spoons in his arms. He walked to the short table as if on a tight rope.

Bucky quickly grabbed the spoons before taking some of the things out of Steve's arms. "Careful, wouldn't want to make a mess."

"Thanks," Steve grinned. He dished out the broth equally in two bowls and offered one to Bucky.

Bucky gratefully took his bowl and sat down.  
"So, how was your day?" he asked as he raised his spoon.

"The usual," Steve said. "Oh! Except for this, hold on, I'll go get it." He jumped off his chair and rushed back to the kitchen.

He returned with a piece of paper and a huge smile on his face

Bucky peered at him curiously. "What is it?"

"It's a job offer! I start the trial week tonight." he told him.

Something twisted in Bucky's gut. He set down his spoon and leaned closer. "Where?"

Steve was a little embarrassed. "At a sewing factory... All the ditch digging and manual labor places just laughed at me."

The knot tightened. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, I'm glad you got a job and all, but the factories don't always have the best conditions and you have asthma and -it was a while ago- but they're prone to fires, I mean, look at that shirtwaist fire! Over a hundred people died!" Bucky babbled, worry creasing his brows.

Steve pondered this. "Gee, that's not something they warned me about. Just the loosing fingers in those big, scary sewing machines." He rolled his eyes. Steve punched Bucky in the shoulder playfully and sat back down.

Bucky looked startled. "I forgot about that."

"The thing is," Steve explained. "I don't want to be dead weight while you do all the work."

Bucky sent him a puzzled look. "You're not dead weight, Steve. I really don't mind." He shifted slightly as a twinge of pain shot down his arm.

They'd talked about this before, with similar results. Steve decided to drop it for now. He show Bucky what a breadwinner he could be later.  
"Is something wrong, Bucky?" Steve asked

He shook his head. "'m fine."

"No you're not," Steve said stubbornly. He got up again and walked around the splintery table to his friend

"Steve," Bucky sighed, fingers twitching. His whole body hurt, but he didn't want to worry Steve. "Really, I'm fine."

Steve began to massage Bucky's shoulders, with no idea the proper way to do such a thing. "You spend more time with fish than you do with me," he laughed. "How could you not be tired?"

Bucky sighed, leaning into Steve's hands. "Hmm..."

Steve smiled. The life they had now wasn't so bad. Moments like this made it worth it. He hummed the national anthem, a habit he had when he was happy.

Bucky smirked as he heard Steve's humming. He began to cheerfully whistle "America".

Steve sang along; he couldn't whistle worth shit. When they finished he hugged Bucky's shoulders from behind. "How did you know that one's my favorite?"

Bucky let his head fall back onto Steve's bony shoulder. "You're the most patriotic person I've ever met, Stevie. And after all the years we've known each other, you doubt my ability to read you?" He pouted playfully.

"All these years have taught me not to do this!" Steve gave Bucky's hair a quick ruffle and retreated to his side of the table

Bucky grinned and finished off the last spoonful of his soup. He grabbed his dishes and stood. "And don't you forget it!" He called over his shoulder as he walked to the kitchen.

Steve spooned up the rest of his own soup and followed Bucky with the remainder of the dishes.

Bucky playfully bumped his hip into Steve as he came to stand beside his at their tiny sink.  
He glanced at the clock. "I've gotta go soon."

Steve wilted. He really wished they could spend more time together. If they didn't live together, he doubted if he would see Bucky at all.  
"I- the docks are by the sewing factory, right? We could go together?"

Bucky froze for a second, thoughts going to the murder that had happened at the docks a few days ago. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, maybe not tonight, pal."

"Oh, alright," Steve turned his attention to the set of dinner dishes. "Be careful at work, okay?"

Bucky frowned, looking at Steve's stiff shoulders.  
"Hey," he turned Steve to face him. "I'll walk with you tomorrow, ok? It's just," Bucky let out a frustrated breath. "Not- you can't go that way at night, ok?"

Steve nodded. Bucky was always protecting him. He was grateful, because, um, he kind of needed it.  
"Someday," Steve promised, meeting Bucky's eyes, "I'm going to be the hero for you."

Bucky offered a pained grin and ruffled Steve's hair. "You stuck by me when no else would, Stevie. You're a hero," he winked. "just a short one."

Steve smiled, and decided that if one person thought that, and if that person was Bucky, it would be enough for now.


	2. Chapter 2

(The authors are aware that 'The Wizard of Oz' came out in 1939, at least the one we're referring to did.)

* * *

The '40s (Pre Captain America)

Bucky sighed as he walked home, hand pulling at the collar of his shirt. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell Steve about this.

Steve watched the steady flow of new soldiers exit the registration tent. He craned his next around the tall, broad-shouldered man in front of him, waiting to go in. Was that Bucky? He waved.

Bucky froze when he saw Steve waving at him. Hiding his card behind his back, he walked over.

"Hey stranger," Steve greeted him once he was within earshot.

Bucky offered him a strained smile. "Hey pal. Anything new?"

"I got a date," Steve gave him a thumbs up. "...with Uncle Sam!"

Bucky couldn't stop the laugh that came out of him mouth, face lighting up.

Steve laughed too. The men in line on either side of him looked slightly annoyed, though he didn't care.

"What's that?" he asked when the chuckles subsided.

Bucky wiped tears from his eyes and asked, slightly out of breath, "What's what?"

Steve peaked around Bucky. "That thing behind your back."

Bucky paled suddenly, shifting to hide his card. "I'll- uh. I'll see you at home, Steve." He shot off, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

"Alright... See you..." Steve called after him. They had always shared secrets before, what was it that Bucky couldn't show him?  
"Oi," the man behind him grunted.  
"Oh, sorry, sir," Steve apologized. He moved up in the line, thoughts back on enlistment.

Bucky sighed heavily as he sat down on his bed, eyes on the enlistment card. How the hell was he going to break it to Steve?

Steve walked dejectedly out of the tent, heading home. He had failed his physical. He wasn't fit to fight for his country. What was he going to tell Bucky?

Bucky set the timer on the oven to 20 minutes, hoping Steve would be home in time to get some of the casserole while it was still hot. It was one of the few things Bucky knew how to cook and he knew how much Steve liked it. It might help soften the blow.

The smell of casserole warmed the home when Steve entered. Had Bucky made it to celebrate? Steve clutched his weak arms to himself, not feeling hungry for the first time in months.

Bucky turned at the door opening. "Steve?"

"Hey Bucky," Steve dropped his arms and walked stiffly to the kitchen. "Smells good in here."

Bucky offered a weak smile. "Thanks. I thought it was about time I cooked something for you."

"That's great, thanks!" Steve managed a smile. He would tell him about his failed attempt at joining the army after they ate. He didn't want to ruin Bucky's kind gesture.

Bucky offered a bowl and spoon to Steve, smile falling flat. How was he suppose to tell Steve he was leaving him alone?

Steve accepted the bowl. Maybe he was hungry after all.  
"Anything exciting happen to you today?" he asked, digging in.

"Nothing too good," Bucky answered honestly. "What about you? How'd registration go?"

Dang it. "Oh, that?" Steve shoveled some casserole into his mouth and chewed with a purpose, stalling while he organized his words. "It, um, didn't work out." He swallowed nervously

Bucky left out a breath in relief. He didn't like the thought of those damn Nazis shooting at Steve. He placed his hand over his obviously upset friend's hand. "It's alright, Steve," Bucky murmured.

Steve looked up. Bucky didn't look angry or anything, but now that he thought about it, that reaction would have been ridiculous.  
"I guess so," Steve said. "It's just, well, I don't know exactly how to say this..."

Bucky rose an eyebrow. "How to say what?"

"Um," Steve continued. "The doc at registration told me I'd fit better in a dress than a uniform." He felt a flush spread on the tips of his ears.

"He said what?!" Bucky saw red. "That bastard!" He shot up, murder in his eyes. Bucky, who knew Steve better than anyone else in the world, could see how much not being able to enlist hurt Steve and then some jerk of a doctor dared to tell him...  
"Which doctor was it?" Bucky's voice was deadly.

Steve put his hands in front him, motioning for Bucky to calm down.  
"It doesn't matter who it was!" he said. "I'll, um, buff up and, yeah, that'll show 'em...!"

He didn't want Bucky to go on a rampage, which he looked about ready to do.

"That doesn't matter Steve!" Bucky exploded. "Nobody's got the damned right to say something like that to you!"  
Even, Bucky thought absently, if it is true.

"It doesn't matter what you look like," he repeated. "No one's allowed to talk to you like that."

Warmth swelled in his chest. "Thanks, Bucky," Steve's smile was genuine. "When you say things like that, it makes me wonder why none of the broads have snatched you up yet."

Bucky let out a breath, still not really willing to let the subject go. But the sight of Steve's smile made him sit back down.  
He shrugged. "Guess I haven't really been looking for a dame in a while."

"Bet you'd be swimming in 'em if you joined the army," Steve joked. "The propaganda says so."

"Maybe that's why I haven't been looking," Bucky offered absently, not really paying attention, thoughts still on finding the doctor who said those things to Steve. "It's bad enough that I'm leaving you."  
He jerked back when he realized what he had just said. "Steve-"

Something inside him cracked. "You're... leaving?"

Bucky's eyes were wide. "Steve, that's not how I was going to, I mean, yeah, but- dammit." He ran his hands through his hair.

"Hey, that's- that's great," Steve didn't know what to do. "You got in. You get to fight for freedom. That's... great." He realized he was dead panning. He should be happy for Bucky. Why was this swiftly turning into the worst day ever?

Bucky flinched at Steve's tone. Turning, he caught hold of his wrist and pleaded, "Steve... I just," he released his wrist and hung his head. "I didn't know how to tell you."

"It's fine," Steve assured him. He placed his other hand on top of Bucky's and squeezed it gently. "Let's do something. Go to the movies or, I don't know. We should try to make this day have something good in it."

Bucky sighed (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately) and squeezed Steve's hand. "Whatever you want, Stevie."

Steve dragged Bucky down the street to the theater. Scraping up a couple of dimes hadn't been hard since Steve's new job, sewing overseer, paid a decent amount. Looking Bucky in the eye, however, wasn't nearly as easy.

Bucky followed Steve easily, happy to do anything to make him smile. His thoughts, though, were still on the asshole doctor who embarrassed Steve after rejecting him.  
''When I get my hands on him...'' Bucky muttered under his breath darkly.

"Did you say something?" Steve asked, looking back briefly. He almost ran into someone in the process.

Bucky caught his arm and pulled him out of the way in time and answered quickly, "Nope. Not a thing."

"I must be hearing things," Steve laughed nervously, shuffling away.

Bucky didn't let go of his arm. "You ok, Steve?" he asked, worry creasing his brows. "Are you feeling ok?"

Steve coughed awkwardly. "I'm fine," he said. "I'm, ah, in a hurry to get there is all."

Bucky frowned. "We've got plenty of time, the movie doesn't start till seven and it's only," he glanced at his watch. "Six."

"Right," Steve nodded. "No rush." He put his hands in his pockets. Why was he feeling so anxious? This might be their last time doing something like this together, he should want it to /last/. He concentrated on slowing his walking pace.

Bucky frowned again, but willingly followed his friend.

The posters outside the theater were brighter than before the war. Much more red, white, and blue. Steve smiled at heroic images and gestured Bucky closer so he could admire them with him.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he shuffled closer, brushing his shoulder against Steve's.

Steve felt content with Bucky's broad shoulders blocking the wind. A gregarious blonde man in the ticket booth knocked on the glass. "You guys buying or not?"

Bucky glanced at Steve before quickly stepping in front of him, pulling out his wallet. "Two tickets for the Wizard of Oz," he said, paying before Steve had a chance to protest.  
Steve had told him how much he had wanted to see it.

The ticket man accepted the money and handed back a few nickels as change. He chatted with himself all the while.  
"There aren't any way-neat heroes in that one," he said, referring to the movie choice, "but you'll enjoy it." He winked at Steve.

"Um, thanks?" Bucky offered as he took his change, hand moving towards Steve.

Steve ignored the blonde guy and grabbed the front of Bucky's jacket, pulling him into the theater. As they left, the blonde readjusted his glasses and shrugged. People just didn't know a hero when they saw one.

Bucky shifted out of Steve's grip only to grab him by the sleeve and pull him to the center of the theater. He plopped down, pulling Steve down too.

The clunky theater chair was comfy but lopsided. Even though there was no one else in the theater yet, Steve felt the need to whisper.  
"Did you see that guy? He was flirting with you, I swear."

Bucky choked on the air he was breathing in. He whipped around to stare at Steve. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

Steve was the picture of honesty. "I don't know, he winked...! Only old guys hitting on flappers do that."

Bucky stared at Steve like he had grown a second head. He repeated, "What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Oh," Steve said, feeling a little stupid. "I must have been imagining it."

Bucky stared at him for a second before leaning back in his seat. To distract himself from wondering what was wrong with Steve, he entertained thoughts of finding the doctor that had made that comment to Steve. He chuckled to himself darkly, staring straight ahead.

"You'll have to write, you know," Steve said abruptly. "When you're away."

Bucky was torn away from his thoughts about tearing apart the doctor. His eyes softened. "Course I will." He paused. "You know I have some time before going to Basic, right? Then I'll be back for a while and we can have some nights on the town. Just the two of us, yeah?"

Steve grinned ear to ear. "Whew, I was thinking this would be the last time I'd see you," he admitted, relaxing back into the musty seat.

Bucky gently bumped his shoulder against Steve's. "We got time, Stevie." They were silent for a minute before Bucky asked carefully, "So the doctor..."

Steve gave Bucky a confused look. "I guess I'd forgotten about that," his lip twitched.

"Who am I kidding, I'd probably cuss him out if I saw him again," he grinned like it was the most rebellious thing he'd ever thought of.

Bucky offered him a tight grin, trying not to think about how much he did not want Steve to ever see that asshole again. "Which doctor was he?" Bucky asked as subtly as he could, not looking at Steve.

"Gee, I don't know," Steve contemplated. The clicks of the movie reel being put on could be heard from the back. There still wasn't anyone else in the theater. "Why?"

Bucky shrugged and refused to answer. Maybe he could go back to the recruitment tent and figure out which one it was...

He wasn't really sure why he was so caught up on this whole thing, acting like a jealous guy whose dame had been hit on...

Wait... what?

"Bucky," Steve chuckled. "You're acting like a jealous guy protecting a dame." He smiled like it was a punch line.

Bucky choked on air again. "Get the hell out of my head, Steve," he demanded, before he realized what he had slipped out of his mouth

"Hm?" Steve blinked. His mind processed the words. "You... Think of me like a /girl/?"

The words stumbled out of Bucky's mouth before he could stop them. "I don't- it's not- I know you're not- it's-" He closed his mouth and let his head fall back, hands covering his eyes.

"I don't know anymore," he muttered.

This was certainly a development.  
"I know that I was practically your housewife for a while," Steve thought out loud. "And I know I'm not the most manly... but, erm..."

Bucky shot him a horrified look before he slid down his chair and recovered his face with his hands.

"Kill me now," he pleaded.

Steve leaned over the arm rest, observing Bucky's unusual state.  
"I don't- I don't mind," he said. "Hey, Bucky?" Steve tapped his friend on the shoulder.

Bucky refused to look up, to do so would be to admit that he was blushing.

Steve went ahead and said it anyway, "I don't care what you think of me, as long as you don't forget about me." He looked intently at Bucky's slumped form.

Bucky mumbled something behind his hands.

"Hey, don't be like that," Steve joked, trying to pull his hands away from his face. He was glad it was dark; he figured he had the goofiest expression on his face. Bucky was just being so...

Bucky stiffened at the feel of Steve's hands, muttering under his breath when he didn't give up on trying to pull his hands away.

"I suppose I'll have to make do," Steve sighed. He moved his hands to Bucky's shoulders and kissed his knuckles where his lips would be.

Bucky's hands fell away from his face and he pushed Steve away, acting on instinct. But instead of letting go, he held him firmly by the shoulders, staring at his narrow face, illuminated by the film playing in the background. He said nothing, eyes locked on Steve's face, thinking.

Steve's face was unbearably hot now, but he locked his eyes on Bucky, not daring to look away.

He really hoped he hadn't done something stupid.

Bucky stared at Steve for a beat before letting go, pushing back the arm rests and yanking him into his arms. He held him tightly, muttered, "Glad to know it's not just me," and then pulled away to crush his lips against Steve's.

Steve made a muffled sound of surprise at Bucky's sudden actions, but soon closed his eyes and gave in the embrace.

Bucky shifted, frustrated with the angle, and pulled Steve onto his lap. With one arm wrapped around his waist to keep him from falling off, he deepened the kiss.

Steve tentatively placed his arms around Bucky's neck, bringing the two of them as close together as he could. The lack of air was making him dizzy, or maybe that was the feeling of Bucky around him. Whatever it was, he liked the feeling of it.

Bucky carefully broke the kiss, leaning forward to place his head on Steve's shoulder. Suddenly, he sat up straight, remembering where they were. He searched around the still empty theater, tense as though expecting someone to be watching. Only slightly reassured that they were alone, Bucky shifted to carefully deposit Steve on the seat next to him, the one that placed himself between Steve and the door.

Steve was in a daze. He looked up at the movie screen, realizing it had already started. He leaned his head on Bucky's shoulder, watching the black and white image of Kansas role by.

Shifting to accommodate him, Bucky settled and placed a soft kiss against the top of Steve's head, repeating his earlier muffled words into his ear. "As if I could ever forget about you."

"You better not," Steve mumbled. "No matter how long we have to be apart, I won't forget you either."

Bucky smiled and curled closer to him, keeping an ear out to make sure they remained alone. He knew how much trouble they could get into if anybody found them but he wouldn't let anything bad happen to Steve.  
On screen, the tornado began to swirl...

"Holy shit, was that a cow?" Steve whispered

Bucky held back a chuckle.

"Language," he muttered, eyes on the screen.

"You were thinking it, too," Steve pouted. The creaky farmhouse touched down and everything went still.

"Shut it and watch the damn movie," was his reply.

Steve smiled into his shoulder, eyes fixed on the screen. Dorothy walked cautiously to the front door.

Bucky's attention shifted from the screen to Steve as he felt the smile against his shoulder.

The door was gently pushed open. Steve gasped. The screen was suddenly vivid with color. The sky was bluer than he had ever known it to be. A saffron walkway stretched out in front of Dorothy. Steve's eyes reflected the brilliant colors, try as they might to soak them in.

Bucky's eyes were on Steve as his face lit up with amazement at what he was seeing, eyes wide and excited, shocked and full of wonderment.

It was one of the most beautiful things Bucky had ever had the privilege of seeing.

Steve looked up at Bucky. "Did you see /that/?" he asked breathlessly.

Bucky grinned and kissed Steve's lips lightly. "I saw it," he murmured. "And it was beautiful."


	3. Chapter 3

((words)) = in Russian. The authors are also aware that an electrotranscircuit is not a real thing. At least, we think it's not.

* * *

There was nothing but silence as they waited for the Winter Soldier to awake. Two hands came up out of his box, grabbing onto the edges. One was gloved, the other was metal.

Steve held his breath. His shield was clutched in his hand, in case he needed it. The plane was coming into range of the base. Beside him, Tony projected the holographic image of Fury's face out of a device on the wrist of his suit. The eye-patched face gave them a last word of good luck before giving them the signal to dive out of the plane.

(("Comrade? How do you feel?")) Cold eyes watching, the Winter Soldier sat up, body stiff but ready.

(("I am fine.")) He looked around. (("What is the date?"))

(("It is 2013, comrade. We have a new mission for you."))  
The Winter Soldier stood, stretching his unused muscles and stepping out of the chamber. (("What is it?")) His accent was heavy, voice cold as ice.  
He was handed a file. (("You are to kill Captain America."))

Tony jumped first, the dull sun of the overcast sky reflecting off his metallic suit. Steve adjusted the goggles over his mask, saluted to the pilot, and followed. They landed on the roof of the concealed base and were greeted by a shower of bullets.

The Winter Soldier quickly read the file before turning to the doctor that had given it to him. (("Where is Natalia?"))  
The doctor hesitated, but decided not to answer, looking away from the assassin.  
The Winter Soldier stepped in front of him. (("Where is the Black Widow?"))  
The doctor sighed before finally admitting, (("She has... defected."))

Steve deflected the bullets off his shield. Tony took out the turrets with a blast from his palms. Steve located the entry a they dropped into the enemy building.

(("Shots fired, I repeat, shots fired. All operatives to the west entrance!")) crackled across the radio. The Winter Soldier, still shocked that his Natalia had defected, remained unmoved. The doctor swore and demanded into the walkie, (("Who is it?"))  
The answer was abrupt, (("The Iron Man and Captain America."))

Cold eyes locked on the Winter Soldier. (("You have your orders. Eliminate Iron Man as well.")) He clapped a quick hand to his soldier. (("Good luck, comrade."))

The Winter Soldier bared his teeth and, with all the fury that had come from Natalia's betrayal, snarled, (("I do not need luck."))

"Which way do we go?!" Steve yelled over the blaring of the multiple alarms and orders being called over the speaker system in Russian.

"To where the scary guys are coming from, I guess," Tony answered.

The Winter Soldier took his rifle and began to make his way to the roof. He could not remember where he had learned to be a sniper, only that he had at some point been one and he was very good. (Something that was required for the assassin business.)

The Captain punched his way through one armed brute after another. He did his best not to kill, just to maim or seriously injure. Tony pointed out a staircase.

"After you," he bowed. Steve rolled his eyes and bounded down several steps at a time

The Soldier tried to open the door, but it stuck. With a growl he stepped back and kicked it open. As he was about to start up the steps, he heard footsteps. Stepping backwards, he melted into the shadows.

"You're way too slow," Tony said into the mic installed in his helmet. He zoomed past with the aid of his suit's flying capability.

"Not all of us have rockets for feet," Steve answered back through his own mic. "What happened to being gentlemanly?"

"It got boring," Tony reached the floor that Fury had said the Winter Soldier would be on.

"Wait-" Steve called to Tony, slightly out of breath. He knew Iron Man was a superhero and all, but the distance between them was making him nervous.

With ease the Winter Soldier dispatched the Iron Man, using the electrotranscircuit disrupter he stole on his way out. The man inside the suit was only knocked out, but he would take care of him later. Someone else was coming.

The Winter Soldier disappeared back into the shadows and readied his gun...

A weird static came over the earpiece in the communicator. "Tony?" Steve asked hesitantly. When there was no reply he knew something was wrong. There was absolutely /nothing/ that shut that man up.

Reaching the designated floor, Steve did a somersault through the doorway and ended kneeling with his shield held in front of him.

The Winter Soldier did not shoot. He did not move. He merely waited for the man behind the brightly painted (and vaguely familiar) shield to come out. The man (obviously Captain America) would not be able to see him. He waited.

Sensing nothing from the darkly lit room, Steve stood and scanned for signs of Tony. He walked cautiously toward the other end of the room, where there were a few doors outlined by light on the other side.

Shifting, the Winter Soldier shot his metal arm out grabbing the Captain around the throat and placing the muzzle of his hand gun against his temple.

Steve dropped his shield in alarm. The cold grip on his throat sent chills through him, but the face glaring at him was even more terrifying. The person holding a gun to his head shouldn't be alive. It- it wasn't possible!

(("What do you want, Captain?")) he demanded, voice icy, grip tightening until the Captain let out a pained gasp.

"I- I only speak American," Steve choked out. "I mean English. Goddammit Bucky, let me go!"

(("I don't know who Bucky is. Answer my question, American swine!")) He pressed the muzzle of his gun harder to his temple, glaring at the Captain.

Steve stared with wide eyes. A grim resolve formed in his chest.

"I'm trying to rescue you!" he growled, pulling the metallic hand off his neck with his super human strength.

Jerking in surprise, the Winter Soldier pulled away. Something about the Captain's eyes were familiar... He snapped out of his thoughts as he sprung at the Captain.

Steve retrieved his shield from the ground just in time to block the Winter Soldier's attack.

Growling in frustration, the Winter Soldier fired his weapon only to have it blocked. (("Dammit,")) he cursed as he dropped down, kicking out his leg, knocking the Captain's legs out from under him

The force of the blow knocked Steve onto his back. His head hit the floor hard and his mask became askew.

One foot pinning the Captain's arm down with one foot, the other ready to crush his throat, the Winter Soldier aimed his gun at the Captain's head. (("So long, asshole.")) and prepared to fire.

Steve rolled to the side, the gun shot deafening in his ears. He gulped. Bucky really didn't recognize him. His best friend, his first love, was prepared to kill him. Steve tried to get to his feet but faltered. He just couldn't find the strength.

(("Dammit,")) he snarled, once again pinning the Captain. (("Stay put!")) Once again he aimed and smiled, ice in his eyes.  
The Captain without his mask. Weak, defenseless.

-"I don't care what you think of me, as long as you don't forget about me."-

He froze, something in the back of his mind screaming at him.

-"As if I could ever forget about you."-

He struggled to fight whatever was trying to break free.

-Wonder filled eyes looked up at him. "Did you see /that/?"-

The Winter Soldier tightened his grip on his gun.

-A sad, beat-up man, eyes empty and bitter. "Did you get your orders?"-  
-"Don't do anything stupid." Offered smartly.  
"How could I? You're taking all the stupid with you."-  
-"Punk" "Jerk" A secret language, not safe to say the words,-  
-"I had him on the ropes". A breathless repetition.  
An impish grin. "I know you did."-  
-An out stretched hand. "Take my hand!"  
"STEVE!"  
"BUCKY!"-

The Winter Soldier did not move, eyes locked on the Captain.

The Winter Soldier wasn't firing at him. He had him in the perfect situation, but he wasn't going in for the final blow. Steve tensed, thinking it might be a trap. If it was, he didn't see the advantage of letting him live any longer.

Unless...

Was Bucky keeping his promise? Had he remembered him after all?

Steve got slowly to his feet. "Bucky...?" he whispered

(("I said to stay put.")) Why was his voice wavering? For the first time, the Winter Soldier's hands shook as he aimed his gun, breaths harsh.

Why were his eyes watering?

The angry Russian words meant nothing to Steve. He barely heard them, except for the change in their tone. He stepped closer to Bucky, gently lowering the gun to point at the ground.

(("I said to stay put,")) he repeated, voice shaking. He stepped back, shaking his head. (("Who are you?)) he whispered. When he got no answer, he brought his gun back up and demanded angrily, (("Who are you?"))

Ignoring the gun, the Captain straightened his posture and gave Bucky a salute. His eyes never wavered. "Steve Rogers, protector of freedom and captain of justice." He gave a slight smile.

Steve Rogers. Why did that name sound so familiar?  
Frustrated by the disjointed thoughts in his head, the Winter Soldier demanded, once again, (("Who are you?!"))

Steve huffed in frustration. Why the hell wouldn't Bucky /talk to him/? And Russian didn't count, dammit!

"First, I'm your captain," he said, winding his fist back.

His punch hit Bucky in the jaw, avoiding the eyes and nose. "Second, I'm your best friend."

Next, his brightly painted shield rammed into his chest. "And third, I made you a promise."

The breath left the Winter Soldier's lungs and he staggered back. Fury burned deep and he shot his leg out, swiping the Captain's legs out from under him. His jaw ached as he snarled, stalking forward, "You little punk!"

Steve smiled deviously back. "That's what you get for being a jerk!"

He froze. Something in the Winter Soldier's mind broke at the words while something else unthawed.

A beat.

"Steve?"

Steve relaxed his fighting stance. "Are you back now, Bucky?" he asked.

Bucky shook, gun falling from his fingers as his hands went to his head. "My head's killing me," he croaked, stumbling back until his back hit the concrete wall and he was able to sit down.

Steve knelt down in front of him after kicking the discarded gun aside. "It's alright," he assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to get you out of here."

Bucky shook his head, hand shooting out to push Steve away. "I just tried to kill you, Steve. I'm- you shouldn't be near me, ok? m'head's not right just now." He stood on shaky legs, his non-metal hand on the wall.

"Is there anything I can do?" Steve asked, glancing at the door. "Because I don't know how much time we have before one of your Russian buddies stops in to check on us."

Bucky chuckled humorlessly. "Leave that to me," he said darkly.

"So, um, do you know how to get out of here?" Steve looked embarrassed. "This is a lot further ahead than we planned and I don't- shit, where's Tony?!"

Bucky frowns. "Who's Tony?"

"He's- do you remember-" Steve began to describe Stark's kid, but was interrupted from the daunting task by a ton of guards busting through the doors on either end of the room

Bucky reacted quickly, metal arm shooting out to grab Steve around his neck. When he began to struggle, Bucky whispered in his ear, "Just follow my lead," before straightening and twisting his face into a fierce scowl. (Internally, he smirked when he saw the fear in the agents eyes. They knew better than to anger the Winter Soldier.)  
(("I have everything under control. Secure the base,")) he barked. When no one moved, he snarled, (("Now!"))  
They quickly nodded to him, recognizing him as the superior officer and left.

Bucky waited for a moment before releasing Steve.

"Nicely done," Steve rubbed his neck where Bucky's metal hand had been. "Now let's get out of here. There's a truck with some Russian defectors wherever the garage is in this place. Shall we?"

Bucky nodded, pointing out Tony, who was still out cold to Steve on their way out. (He was also muttering about traitors under his breath in Russian and thinking about Natalia in anger. He may have been under some freaky mind-control, but after nearly 70 years under the Red Room's control, his loyalty was still slightly with them.)

Steve hoisted Tony, suit and all, over his shoulder. He was extra glad he had Bucky because he was not going to be much use in a fight as it was.

Bucky led the way to the garage, stopping every now and then to let Steve find him. (He was still in assassin mode and kept disappearing from sight.)

It seemed impossible that this wasn't a dream. When he accepted this mission, he hadn't had any idea who the Winter Soldier was, except that he would stop at nothing to kill him. Who'd have thought it was actually his first crush under mind control? Small world, he guessed.

Bucky stopped suddenly, gritting out a harsh, (("Dammit.")) before pushing Steve out of the way and behind him, gun at the ready as four soldiers stood before him, guns locked on his heart.

This was bad. Steve didn't let himself panic. Instead, he threw Iron Man like a javelin, knocking over two of the attackers and dominoing into a third.

Bucky fired readily, killing the still standing man and two of the fallen. The forth began to get up and was quickly killed as well.

Bucky rolled his shoulders and offered a dark grin to Steve, before moving forward, once again disappearing from sight.

Steve gulped and retrieved Tony from the ground. He followed after Bucky as quickly as he could under the weight of the suit. Risking a glance over his shoulder made him shiver at the sight of the bodies in his friend's wake.

Bucky moved quickly, leaving more bodies as he cleared a path to the garage.

-He saw the scene through a rifle scope. The Hydra soldier about to shoot Steve. Bucky didn't hesitate to fire, bullet plowing into the soldier's brain. Steve's shocked eyes turned grateful as he turned to salute Bucky.-

The memory threw him for a moment, long enough for Steve to catch up to him.

"We're almost in the clear," Steve congratulated him. He scanned the row of trucks until he spotted the right one. "There!" He pointed

Bucky allowed Steve to move in front of him, eyes scanning for threats.

Steve tossed Tony into the back of the truck and raced up to the front to give the driver a high five. When he was sure everything was alright, he motioned for Bucky to join them.

Bucky hesitated, -weren't they here to kill him?- before he straightened, face blank and eyes cold and stalked over to Steve.

The Russians in the car blanched when they saw the Winter Soldier approaching.

"I thought you were bringing back a body, you double crossing American!" the driver yelled in a heavy accent. His face was angry but his eyes were scared.

Bucky's arm shot out and he grabbed the driver by the collar. (("Call him a traitor again, and I cut out your tongue,")) he snarled. He pushed the terrified man back and hissed, (("Now, do as he says, or you'll regret it."))

Bucky glared at the others and stated darkly, (("Threaten or hurt him, and I'll cut off your balls and cut your throats.")) He shot them a cruel grin and asked, (("Do you understand?"))

They looked at him, horrified, and nodded quickly.

The torrent of Russian muttering made zero sense to Steve, but the terrified looks on the driver's face gave him a clue.

"Hate to break up your pleasant chat," said Steve, climbing into the back, "but we need to get a move on."

Bucky gave one last glare to the others before climbing in after him.

The truck revved once and hummed to life. The ex-guard pumped the gas pedal and they zoomed to the exit.

The tension slowly drained from Bucky as they made their exit. He glanced at Steve to see how he was doing.

Steve stuck his head out the window, looking back to see what kind of pursuit they were dealing with. Several other trucks were tailing them, so many that they slammed into each other occasionally. A bullet zinged by Steve's face. He ducked back into the truck, resolving never to try /that/ again.

Hearing the rapid gunfire behind them, Bucky shifted and opened the window. He readied his rifle and began shooting back at their tails.

Snow flew up when the tires left the pavement of the garage. As soon as the truck became visible by air, a Shield helicopter dropped from the sky. It slowed its decent and hovered in the truck's path. A ramp was lowered from the underbelly so the truck could drive straight in.

Bucky stopped shooting once they were inside the helicopter. He glanced at Steve and asked, (("Are we safe?")) not realizing that he was talking in Russian.

"Am I going to have to learn Russian to talk to you? Because being a hero doesn't have a lot of free time. And besides," he shot Bucky a smile. "I'd rather spend it with you than a book."

Bucky looks startled. "Was I speaking Russian?" He didn't seem to hear what Steve had just said, mind focused on the fact that he had been speaking in Russian without knowing it.

"Yeah, you were," Steve looked concerned. "You're not... going to relapse, are you?"

Bucky didn't answer or look at him. He leaned forward and asked to driver, "How long until we're at our drop off?"

"Twenty minutes," the driver said with a thick accent. "If we aren't shot down first."

Bucky nodded at leaned back, ignoring Steve to check how many bullets he had left.

"We have to switch vehicles, there's one on other side of chopper," Steve offered.

He nodded again, not looking up as he reloaded his handgun and rifle. He checked his knives and other guns, making sure they were still there. (They were.)

Steve got out of the truck and motioned for Bucky to do the same, once he was done managing his many... scary looking... weapons.

"I better explain that you're not evil to everyone," said Steve. "Oh, almost forgot Tony."

Bucky shifted and asked uneasily, "Everyone?"

"We're like a family, everyone at the tower," Steve explained. "The Shield guys have control issues, but otherwise they're alright. They'll love yah, I know it."

Steve laughed. "I guess it'll be kinda like introducing you to my parents, if I had any."

Bucky frowned. "Shield? What tower?... Hey! I've met your ma."

"But, um," Steve ran a hand through his hair. "Not when we were... together."

Bucky grinned mischievously. "She said you would be lucky to land a guy like me." He shot him a look. "You know she was cool with it right? Even if we hadn't figured it out yet, she didn't care."

Steve gave him a steady look, "I know I am."

Bucky shifted and shook his head, muttering to himself, (("I almost killed him, and he still believes that?"))

"You're doing it again," Steve punched him lightly on the arm.

Bucky shot him a look and said quietly, "I meant to this time."


	4. Chapter 4

((words)) =in Russian

* * *

Bucky looked around the helicopter with a blank face, unimpressed. After all the crap he had been through in the last 70+ years, there was very little that could actually impress him. He turned and asked Steve, "So, when are we getting out of here?"

"Natasha's picking us up at the next check point," Steve explained. He calmly observed Tony being lugged into the next vehicle by some lackeys. "We ride this car to her in case the truck has any trackers on it."

Bucky nodded absently, eyes looking around and body tense.

"I was wondering," Steve said after a beat of silence, "how you're still alive. And young. Not like I'm complaining."

"When I fell," Bucky paused when he felt Steve flinch. He shifted and took a hold of his hand. "I don't know why I didn't die. I probably should have, but I didn't. My arm was barely attached and I was out of it. Some men came and at first, I thought they were the Howling Commandos, but then they started talking in a language I didn't know." He shrugged. "They were Russian. They found me and after they figured out I was alive, they took me somewhere and they-" Bucky looked down and cleared his throat. "They gave me this," he flexed his metal arm. "I guess they brainwashed me and I became the Winter Soldier, the assassin that assassins fear." He chuckled humorlessly. "When they didn't need me, they put me in stasis, that's what I was coming out of when you and your friend attacked the base."

That was a lot to swallow. "I always knew you were tough, but... /damn/..."

Bucky shrugged and reached into his pocket. "I, um, I think I always remembered you, Steve." He held up a broken pocket watch, one that Steve had given him before he had deployed. Inside (though Bucky didn't open it) was a yellowed photograph of Steve, one Bucky had taken himself long before there was a Captain America or a Winter Soldier.

"I killed anyone that tried to take it from me, even after they had brainwashed me. I refused to give it away."

Steve was honored that Bucky had done so much to protect his memory. He was immediately disheartened when he compared it to his own abilities.

"I can't say that I did the same," Steve said. "When I woke up, all record of you was gone. I still knew who you were, but when I looked, I couldn't even find your MIA statement. It was like you never existed. Pictures that I knew you had been in had blanks or other people's faces where yours should have been. I thought I was dead or insane."

Bucky grinned. "That was Red Room."

"Is that like red rum? I can't go skiing after watching that, you know," Steve shuddered.

Bucky frowned and said, "I'm not sure what the hell you're talking about. Red Room, that's what the Russian facility under Department X is called. They're the ones that made me into an assassin. They probably didn't want anyone who lived after seeing me to figure out who I really was.

"It worked, Shield didn't know, I thought you were dead... It's just good to have you back," said Steve.

A short woman in Shield uniform approached them. "Excuse me, but we have a schedule to keep," she informed them

Bucky nodded and stood. He and Steve followed the woman and when he was sure that she couldn't hear him, whispered to Steve, "I'm glad to be back."

The short woman turned out to be one hell of a driver. She had the instincts and speed to drive the path of a rollercoaster without the tracks. She ended with a sharp turn and sideways slide to a halt in front of a sleek jet. It was hidden so well that Steve almost walked right into it. The insanely gifted driver stopped him in time, leading him to the correct entrance with a sight roll of the eyes. For her, it was simply another work day at Shield.

Bucky followed Steve and kept himself from laughing at the look on the agent's face when she stopped Steve from running into the jet. With the serum or without, he was a klutz. Bucky shot him a fond smile.

The jet's accent went off without a hitch. They shot through the clouds to where the airborne Shield Helicarrier was meeting them halfway, well out of Russian reach.

Bucky trailed after Steve as they exited the jet and began down the halls of the helicarrier

Steve walked briskly ahead like a puppy going out for a walk or a puppy who didn't need any shots at the vet or a puppy whose owner was putting yummy leftover steak bones in his dog food. He was a puppy.

Bucky twisted his lips when they stopped in front of a heavy looking door.

He shot Steve a look, one that said, should I take my guns out and get ready to fire or what?

Steve shot one back that said, why the stress? We're safe now.

Then he remembered that this was a strange place to Bucky. A strange place where everyone thought he was a cold-hearted and deadly assassin.

"Maybe you should hang back a sec," Steve decided. "I'll make sure they know what's up."

Bucky glared at him and snapped, "You're not going in without back up, Steve."

Steve figured nothing he could say would change Bucky's mind. He gestured his friend to stay close. "This isn't a war zone, so don't shoot anyone, okay?"

Bucky shook his head and answered, "No promises, pal." He placed his hand on his holster and gave Steve a dark grin.

"Ready when you are."

The doors of the flight deck slid open unceremoniously. Fury, Natasha, and that one brown-haired chick I can never remember stood with their backs to Steve. The deck was as intimidating as ever, like all the bustle of a crowded school hallway crammed into a box and made as efficient and productive as possible.

Bucky followed Steve reluctantly. His overprotective lover instincts screaming at him to grab Steve and run (even if he could no longer carry him).

He froze at the sight of Natasha and before anyone could react to their entrance, he had her in a headlock with a gun at her temple.

(("Traitor!")) he snarled.

Fearing Bucky was entering a relapse, Steve stepped in quickly to slap the gun from his hand. Natasha was more than capable of the rest.

Bucky shot Steve a glare but did not release Natasha. (("I'll crush your throat if you move,")) he snarled in her ear.

She answered uneasily, (("Yasha, I don't want to fight."))

Bucky was unmoved. He demanded, (("Why are you here?"))

Natasha answered quietly, not wanting anyone to over hear, (("I fell in love with the enemy."))

He hesitated before reluctantly releasing her. (("I woke up and they told me that you are gone."))

She nodded. (("He offered to help me and I left."))

Bucky glared at her, not caring that everyone was staring at them. (("They would have forced me to kill you."))

For a moment, regret and guilt flashed across Natasha's face before it once again became a blank mask, mirroring her former mentor's. (("I'm sorry, Yasha. If I had known where you were, I would have taken you with me."))

Bucky sighed and nodded his understanding. "I don't blame you, Natalia."

They shared a long look before embracing.

Steve felt like he was watching a clip from a soap opera, which he wouldn't have understood even if it wasn't in Russian.

"Do you two... know each other?"

Bucky and Natasha shared a quick look, Natasha silently asking if he wanted to answer. Bucky nodded and shifted slightly, unconsciously putting himself in front of Natasha.

"Yeah, we knew each other. I trained her when we were in Red Room." He glanced at her.

Natasha shrugged. "We were... close."

Suddenly Clint walked in and froze at the sight of them. "Hey guys," he offered. "What's going on?"

Natasha gestured to Clint. "This is him."

Bucky gave Clint a once over, nodding when he was done. "I see."

Natasha looked at Clint. "This is Yasha, my mentor. Yasha, this is Clint, my fiancé."

A dawning look of understanding came over Clint. "Yasha, as in your former lover, Yasha?"

She shrugged delicately. "Yes."

Bucky smirked, dark and protective. He snarled, (("If you break her heart, I'll cut out yours. Understand?"))

Clint swallowed and nodded. (("Understood."))

Lover?

Natasha was beautiful and smart and brave, the perfect woman. Anyone could fall for her. She used that to her advantage in the field, but at the same time was loyal to those who mattered to her. It was perfectly understandable that Bucky would be... fond of her.

And Steve himself had developed romantic feelings for a person that wasn't Bucky. Peggy would have been a perfect dance partner. But that was over now, it could never happen.

For Bucky, Natasha was still very /there/. And from the way he was threatening Clint and his protective stance by Natasha, Steve wasn't sure what was over or not.

It... hurt.

Bucky, unaware of the stricken look on Steve's face, nodded slightly at Clint, who still looked a little scared. He casted a glance at Natasha. She was hiding her amusement well, though he could see through her.

He quirked an eyebrow and said, (("I approve of your choice."))

She deadpanned, (("I'm so glad."))

He grinned and glanced at Steve, wondering why he was so quiet. Noticing the way he was frowning, he moved over to him, leaving Natasha and Clint to talk.

Bucky gently bumped shoulders with him and asked, "What's with the frown, Captain?"

"I'm just... surprised, that's all," Steve managed to say with a weak grin. "I mean, what are the chances that you'd both be in the same place in Russia? It's a big country. And that you'd both be-" Steve caught himself. He'd almost said 'in love'.

Bucky frowned and looked carefully at him. Steve had always been shit at lying, especially to Bucky.

He lightly placed his hand on Steve's arm. "Ok, now do you want to tell me what's really bothering you or do you want to wait until we're alone?"

"It's- we need to catch up, that's all," Steve said. He stepped casually away from Bucky as Nick Fury entered the control room in all his depth-perception-less glory.

Bucky frowned at him and turned to scowl at the man who entered. He crossed his arms and waited for him to speak, hoping whatever it was wouldn't take too long.

He really needed to talk to Steve.

"Good work on a successful mission, Avengers," Fury congratulated them. "Except for Tony, he really didn't do anything. But Steve- WHAT IS HE DOING HERE." Fury took cover behind a computer bay in full defensive mode when he spotted Bucky.

Bucky shot Steve a look that clearly said, 'how do you want to handle this?'

Steve held his shield up and stepped in front of Bucky. "It's fine," he said. "He's with us now."

Fury studied all the faces in the room. Most of them were bored; he figured the danger was past.

"This is the lamest April fools joke ever, Rogers," he said, feeling quite foolish and stowing his guns back in their holsters.

Bucky sent Steve a quizzical look. "So," he murmured under his breath, "that's your boss?"

Steve nodded and relaxed his protective stance.

(("We also call him 'Eternal Baby Sitter' when he's not around,")) Natasha said.

(("What do you call him when he is around?")) he asked, amusement tingeing his voice.

(("Director Fury,")) said Natasha, a smile flickering on her lips. (("Don't worry, he's different than a dictator."))

(("Not by much,")) Clint added.

Fury looked peeved at their chatter. "This is America, goddammit, speak English!"

"That's what I keep telling them!" Steve agreed.

"We're hovering over Central Europe," Natasha pointed out. "The /least/ likely language they are using is English."

Bucky offered, "Dann sollten wir vielleicht sprechen Deutsch? ((Then perhaps we should speak German?)) Ou peut-être que nous devrions parler français?" ((Or perhaps we should speak French?))

He shifted and smirked at the frustrated look on Steve's face. (("You look adorable when you're frustrated, Stevie."))

Both Natasha and Clint started laughing at that.

"Do you know every language?! What is this?!" said Steve. "And what did that last part mean?"

Bucky shrugged and explained, "You've gotta know how to speak to the locals when you're gonna kill someone in their country, Steve. And I said that you look adorable when you're frustrated." He gave him a sultry look and leaned closer, murmuring quietly so only Steve could hear, (("You look good enough to eat, Stevie."))

"I love you too?" Steve was very conscious of all the eyes in the room, watching them. "For all I know, that's what you said."

"Or maybe that's just wishful thinking," Steve said breathily in Bucky's ear

Bucky smirked and raked his eyes across Steve's face before grabbing his wrist and demanding of Natasha, (("The nearest private place?"))

She smiled at him and replied, ((" Down the hall, first door on the right. The cameras are broken and the door has a lock. Clint and I will distract Fury. Have fun."))

Natasha winked and Bucky threw her a smirk before pulling Steve out the door to her recommended spot.

Steve stumbled after Bucky. "Where are we-" They turned a corner. "We're not-" Down the hall. "Oh, we are." Natasha and Clint's snogging spot.

Bucky shut and locked the door behind them and hopped up on the table in the center of the room. "So," he quirked an eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me why you were upset earlier?"

"Oh." Steve stationed himself by the door. "It's... about your past." He muttered something incoherently.

Bucky frowned, "What was that?"

"You," Steve struggled with his words for a moment. "and Natasha." He looked up to Bucky's face. "Lovers?"

His face softened and he grabbed Steve around the waist, bringing his to stand in between his legs. He ducked his head slightly to lock eyes with him and smiled. "Ancient history, kiddo." When he saw the unconvinced look on Steve's face, he sighed and explained, "I will never not love Natasha, but I have not been in love with her for many years. I have never stopped being in love with you, мой ангел."

Bucky shifted and placed a kiss to Steve's temple. "That's what is important."

A feeling of relief and happiness swelled in his chest, pushing out his previous thoughts of ...jealousy. Yes, it had definitely been jealousy.

Steve smiled. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that." He stood a little straighter so that their noses brushed.

"Could I ask for one more thing?"

He smirked and said, "You just did." He laughed at the face Steve made, then rephrased it as, "Of course, мой ангел."

"Teach me some Russian," said Steve. "Like what you said to me earlier. Before you dragged me of to the Clintasha Closet."

"Hmm." Bucky pulled Steve closer and said slowly, (("You look good enough to eat, Stevie.")) He looked at him. "Now you try."

He repeated the words slowly. (("You look good enough to eat, Bucky.)) Is that right?"

Bucky gave him a pleased grin and a peck on the check. "Very good, мой ангел."

"It won't do any good if I don't know what it means," said Steve, trying to keep his blush under control.

Bucky gave Steve a wicked grin and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "It means 'you look good enough to eat, Stevie."

Steve felt a jolt in his chest. And yep, the battle of the blush was a lost cause.

He somehow managed not to stutter. "First I'm your girl, now I'm your food. I think it's about time you became something of mine." He briefly pressed his lips to Bucky's jaw.

(("мой ангел, I have always been yours,")) he murmured lightly, pressing his lips to Steve's temple.

Steve wound his arms around Bucky's middle. "Translation, jerk?" Steve said between light kisses trailing to Bucky's chin.

Bucky grins and tilts Steve's head up. They brush lips as he murmurs, "My angel, I've always been yours."

"My angel... мой ангел," Steve pondered aloud. "I could get used to that.

Bucky laughed and kissed his jaw. (("Punk,")) he said, affection coloring his voice. He ran his hands through Steve's hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

Steve's eyes fluttered shut. He pulled Bucky closer with his hands on his back, feeling the muscle and scars that covered it. There were more of each since they had parted, on that train forever ago.

Bucky deepened the kiss as he shifted, standing and pulling Steve with him until he heavily sat on a chair. He pressed his metal hand to the small of Steve's back and pushed and pulled until he got him to sit on his lap, knees on either side of his hips.

It was reminiscent of the movie theater kiss they had, once upon a time.

Steve moved his hands to cup either side of Bucky's face, kissing him with all the want that had built up over the years. All the nights he had spent drinking, trying to forget the last time Bucky had said his name until only hours ago, they were only in preparation to be drinking him in now.

Bucky gripped Steve tightly, almost afraid to let go. All of the years he had spent in the icy coldness of the Winter Soldier melting under the touch of his best friend, his freakin' angel. He broke the kiss to trail a line of kisses down Steve's neck.

Steve tilted his head to expose more of his neck to Bucky. "My traveler," he whispered.

Bucky smiled against Steve's neck and asked, lips brushing the smooth expanse of skin, "traveler?"

Steve nodded. "That's you, because I'm always following you. To the war when we were kids, to the future, which I guess is now..." He trailed off, hoping his explanation didn't sound stupid.

Bucky remained silent for a moment, eyes on something unseen. He shook off the unwanted memories and tightened his grip on Steve, pulling him back in for a kiss, teeth clinking and slid his hand back into his silky blond hair.

When they broke apart, Steve looked flushed and his eyes were glazed. Bucky smirked and said, "Seems fitting. 'My traveler,' I could get used to that."

Steve smiled and rested his head on Bucky's shoulder. "Don't go anywhere else I can't reach you."

Bucky hummed, "Never again."

Steve meshed his lips with Bucky's. It was a messy kiss, but he didn't care. His friend was back, back for good, and that was enough.

"Jesus, Steve," Bucky growled, tangling his hand in his soft blond strands. He tilted his head and scrapped his teeth down his jaw, causing Steve to gasp.

Steve leaned into the touch, pressing Bucky back gently so his back was on the table.

Spinning suddenly, Bucky sat Steve on the table, eagerly pressing in for another kiss.

Steve mouthed Bucky's name, but was still breathless from kissing. He laced his fingers behind Bucky's neck to eliminate any remaining distance between them.

Pushing against Steve, Bucky tightened his grip on his hair and flattened them against the hard top of the table. He nipped at Steve's neck and moved down to bite at his adam's apple.

Their legs tangled, toes curling and uncurling in shoes. The metal of Bucky's mechanical hand felt cool against Steve's flushed skin. The way his teeth skimmed over him made him think of Bucky's earlier comment. You look good enough to eat.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Bucky murmured, (("You look good enough to eat, my angel,")) before pulling him into a bruising kiss.

Steve pulled away, but not before sucking on Bucky's lower lip. "I remember that one," he whispered. "I could say the same about you." He kissed where Bucky's neck and shoulder connected, his goal to leave a mark.

To claim him more than the red star painted on his metallic bicep or the scars that interlocked on his skin.

Bucky moaned as he felt Steve's lips against his neck. Muttering, (("Dear God,")) under his breath, he leaned his head back to allow Steve more space to work.

Bucky's voice was the most amazing thing. Steve traced his tongue around the spot he had turned red. It was just above the collar of Bucky's uniform, clearly visible. Good.

Bucky shot Steve an amused look. "Marking me up good, Stevie?"

Steve nodded. "I have to, you're mine again," he explained, eyes half-lidded. "I don't want you going anywhere." He hugged him possessively.

Bucky smiled softy, carding his metal hand through Steve's hair and cupping his face gently. (("I'm not going anywhere, my love,")) he murmured, pressing soft kisses to Steve's face.

Steve laughed. "I'm going to have to turn on subtitles to kiss you."

Bucky looked startled. "Sorry, didn't know I wasn't speaking English."

Steve smoothed the lines of worry between his eyebrows with his thumb. "It's alright," he looked a little embarrassed. "It... it's kind of a turn on."

A wicked look swept the worry from Bucky's face. "Is it now?"

"Yeah," Steve let his voice get husky. "I think America is falling to the communists. It's the damn Cold War all over again."

Bucky suddenly pushed Steve flat against the table and growled in his ear, (("I'm going to make you scream.")) Rocking against him, he added, (("until you beg for mercy, Stevie. And believe me, you will."))

Bucky smirked as he watched Steve get dress, various bite marks and hickeys covering his skin. He looked suitably ravished, disheveled in the best way possible, hair astray and lips kiss-bitten red.

Steve tossed him his jacket from the floor. "Aren't you getting dressed too?"

His answer was to shrug on his shirt and tug on his pants, lacing his boots up and putting on his jacket. He sent raked his eyes across Steve once again when he was done.

Steve caught Bucky staring. He wasn't exactly trying to hide it. "What?" he asked with a slight grin.

Bucky thought of his words carefully and weighed the likelihood of making Steve blush with certain ones and others with the possibility of getting him out of his clothes again. Going with the blushing, he smirked and answered, "I'm just making sure I fucked you thoroughly, мой ангел."

Steve crossed the room and rested his hands on the table, one on each side of Bucky. "Check," he said with a quick kiss on the lips.

Bucky grabbed him around the waist and gave him a longer kiss, before murmuring, "I think I'll have to do it again later to make sure I was effective. Double checking results and all." He gave him a hungry look.

"How do you say 'insatiable' in Russian?" Steve asked. He rested his forehead on Bucky's. Captain America could fight off armies of aliens and humans alike, but this one assassin could really tire him out.

He smiled and murmured, (("Says the man, who begged for more not even ten minutes ago.")) He threw his head back and moaned in imitation of Steve, (("Please, Bucky! More! Harder!"))

He opened his eyes again and smirked, "And you call me insatiable."

Steve hid his face in Bucky's shoulder, knowing he couldn't hide the heat of his embarrassment. "One day back and I'm already addicted to you," he admitted. He looked up suddenly, seriousness washing the blush from his features. "Join the Avengers."

Bucky blinked, startled by the sudden change in conversation. "Come again?"

"I know it didn't work out the greatest the last time you joined my elite team," Steve hopped up to sit next to Bucky in the table. "And as much as I'd enjoy you being the stay-at-home-housewife for a change, I want you around... all the time." He laced his fingers with Bucky's.

"Of course I'll join your team, Rogers. What else would you expect me to do while I'm waiting for you to come home? Besides, the last time I left, you nose dived into the fucking ocean."

Steve grinned like an idiot. "I'll still make a pretty mean Ruben."

"Excellent! Another for Asgard!" A booming cheer came from the hallway behind the closed door. It was accompanied by a fit of shushing.

Bucky cocked an eyebrow at the door before locking eyes with a freshly blushing Steve.

"Which one was that?" he asked mildly, looking unsurprised.

"That was Thor, god of the inability to sense the mood," Steve said into his hands. "Shit, were they there the whole time?"

"Damn right we were," growled Fury from behind the door.

Bucky rolled his eyes and yelled, (("I do not share, Natalia!"))

Laughter could be heard from Clint as Natasha yelled back, (("Clint is more than enough for me, thanks!"))

Steve wanted to curl up and never look anyone in the face again. But he didn't. Because he's a hero.

"Are you already making Russian sex jokes about me?"

Bucky laughed and shook his head. "Of course not." He paused. "Why, do you want me to?"

Steve clamped a hand over Bucky's mouth. "They've probably heard enough for one day." He sighed. "Let's go get you suited up."

Bucky's words were muffled as he responded, "There's a dirty joke in there somewhere."

Steve chuckled, then removed his hand to kiss Bucky quickly. "You can tell me later," he promised. He stood and pulled Bucky up as well.

Bucky shot Steve a smile and called out, "Do we actually have someplace we need to be, Mr. Director?"

"Yes! So hurry up with all of these damn feelings and shit," was Fury's muffled response.

Steve grinned, one hand on the door handle and the other in Bucky's. "We've got a world to protect."

Bucky gave him smile, eyes lighting up. "Lead the way, Cap. I've got your back."

* * *

The Russian is bracketed because no one should really trust Google translate. Sorry if the German or the French is wrong. After checking various sources, it was confirmed that мой ангел does mean 'my angel' in Russian. Thank you for reading, we hope you enjoyed the story and please review!


End file.
